


Dadum

by Pixiepeekboo



Category: Original Work, Paranormal - Fandom, Shadow People - Fandom, ghosts - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Horror, Other, Short Story, Writing Prompt, monsters inc - Freeform, scary story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 03:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17716859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiepeekboo/pseuds/Pixiepeekboo
Summary: Girl wakes from a nightmare to find that she is not alone in her apartment.





	Dadum

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've been trying forever to write horror. I tend to write with a fear filter, but I think fear is one of the most potent qualities a story can have.  
> I've struggled with insomnia myself, and I used to wake up after nightmares to sense a figure crouched by my bedside. It used to be a nightly occurrence, and I never told anyone about it. I tried to incorporate that same sense of fear and anxiety into this work.  
> If these sort of things disturb you, please be forewarned.  
> Like the story? Want to see more work? Have a request? Drop kudos or a comment.  
> Thanks and enjoy!

Boo jolts awake after clawing her way out of a nightmare. Nightmares are not uncommon with her ever since she moved to her apartment away from home. She clutches at her blanket and gasps for air, as she cements the fact that she is in her bedroom, not in the world of the nightmare anymore. She forces her eyes wide, afraid that if they close, she’ll fall back into the nightmare. For her, they are like holes in the ground: she steps in one, and falls and falls and falls, in an ever continuous horror parade.  
She pants as she registers the fan whirring overhead, and the night noises of a city that never sleeps, traffic beeping and sirens wailing and people screaming at each other on the other side of the apartment wall. With a sigh, she settles back against the pillow. She is so tired. The bags under her eyes are like cement, weighing against her face. She feels the hollows in her bones, but there is no way she is going back to sleep.  
Rolling, she moves to her side, one hand reaching out to tuck beneath her pillow.  
A figure crouches beside her bed.  
Boo freezes. The figure does not move, but the room vibrates around the energy radiating off its body. Boo knows that if she looks away from it, it will move with her. She shrinks deeper under the blanket.  
It isn’t really there, Boo tells herself. It’s all in your head.  
She read articles about it, what people called ‘shadow people.’ It was most commonly associated with people who had sleep paralysis, or those who suffered from sleep deprivation. It was the mind hallucinating the figure. The experts and scientists could say whatever they wanted, but until they felt the awareness of the creature watching through the dark, they needed to keep their opinions to themselves.  
Boo knew only one thing: to move was to die, so she watches the creature. It remains thick and corporeal at her bedside. Her lip wobbles and a tear streaks down her cheek. The creature seems to rise, up, up, above her, staring down and Boo forces herself still, grits her teeth to keep from screaming.  
The creature reaches for her with one shadowed arm and Boo flinches away from it, back against her pillow. Her heart races so hard and fast it feels as though it is going to rupture through her chest.  
“Please,” She whispers. “I just want to sleep. Leave me alone. What do you want with me?”  
The creature looks down at her, and for a single instant, its eye sockets glow a shade of red not invented yet, a color so intense and terrifying that it saws through Boo and she scrambles out of bed, tearing across the room and smacks the light switch. The switch doesn’t rise all the way, and she releases a strangled yelp as her palm thrusts against it again. There is a second’s delay and when Boo turns, back pinned to the wall, the creature looms over her, the red of its eyes steaming between them. Boo shrieks, arms flung up over her head, and then the lights switch on, dousing the apartment in watery fluorescence.  
It is gone.


End file.
